Free Bird
by Jinx 96
Summary: Thirteen year old Marguerite, aka "Moon", arrived at Wammy's traumatized and depressed. She meets an eighteen year old L and becomes his successor and after six years- oh crap, I suck at summaries. Look, this story includes a time skip of six years, an eventual romance, possible lemons, rating may go up, trial chapter is up! Review and tell me if I should continue! LxOC


**Just a trial chapter for a new series I may continue soon.**

"L, this is Marguerite."

As soon as Watari introduced the young woman, L felt as though he'd already known her for years. He wasn't struck by her beauty or the fact that she didn't speak a word of greeting, he was struck by how she was almost as expressionless as he was.

Most of her short, curly, brown hair was up in a bun and her thick bangs came very close to covering her dark green eyes. Her heart-shaped face was pale with no color in her cheeks and her full lips were set in a charming smile that didn't reach her eyes. She held a small checkered notebook on her lap that matched the black and white ribbon that was tied around her neck.

Her eyes were cold.

She reached a small hand towards him.

"Hello," L greeted her, taking her hand in his. Even her hands were cold.

She nodded and withdrew her hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

She opened the notebook and wrote something down.

"What are you writing?" L looked over her shoulder.

"It's rude to read over someone's shoulder," she said, shutting the notebook. "And it's personal."

The girl didn't seem to like him very much. But, then again, hardly anyone did.

"Where are you from?" L asked.

"Nice," she answered. "I arrived in England last week."

"You speak English very well."

"English, French, Spanish, Japanese, Mandarin. . . I've begun learning German recently."

"So is learning languages what you're good at?" L bit his thumbnail.

"No," she sighed. "I've been told that I'm a musical prodigy. I can sing and play any instrument, I can dance, and I've been told that my deductive reasoning skills are astounding. Nothing like yours, of course, but pretty close."

"You're a bit overconfident, aren't you?"

She frowned. "I'm just stating what I've been told."

Watari laid a hand on her shoulder.

She flinched.

"I'm terribly sorry!" Watari exclaimed, pulling his hand away. "I didn't know-"

"It's alright," she said, still there was a strange note of anxiety in her voice.

"You don't like being touching," L stated.

She hesitated. "No, I don't."

"Where are your parents?"

"L," Watari interrupted. "I think it would be best if we helped Marguerite get settled before you start questioning her."

It was obvious that the young girl was breathing an internal sigh of relief.

As L stood, he glanced at her and said, "Marguerite isn't your real name, is it?"

"No, it isn't."

She stood and smoothed the skirt of her black dress before following them out of the room.

In the hallway, a young boy with white hair and pale skin, sat, putting together a large puzzle. He seemed to have lost a piece and was looking for it among the others.

Marguerite found it easily by the door to Watari's office and brought it back to him.

"Thank you," he said, taking it from her outstretched hand.

Marguerite nodded, took out her notebook again, wrote something down, and continued to follow L and Watari who'd stopped to wait for her at the bottom of the staircase. They were discussing where she would be staying.

"I think it would be best to place her near your room," Watari said.

L nodded. He understood. She was extremely useful and may prove to be helpful with some investigations. Not that he needed any help.

But she was very young. . .

"How old is she, Watari? Thirteen?"

"Yes, but she's very mature for her age. She came to England alone and had managed to find employment in a small clothing store. I believe she was sleeping in the local church."

"Do you know anything about her past?"

"Only that she has quite the reputation for her voice and she has no one taking care of her."

"Not even her real name?"

"She insists on being called Marguerite."

L sighed as the girl appeared beside him, silent as ever. "You'll be sleeping in the room beside mine."

"Okay."

She followed them up the stairs and down the spacious hallways filled with excited children before they arrived at the door to her new home. Watari opened the door and smiled gently at her as she passed him. Her luggage had already been brought in and placed on her bed and the window was opened to let in a warm breeze from the rare, sunlit day that was happening outside. She could hear the children's laughter and merriment from where she stood and she smiled as she thought of the one little brother she'd once had.

Michel, she thought wistfully as, for a moment, her mask broke away to reveal a hint of the sadness that was hidden beneath.

L saw this and in his mind he tried to imagine what could cause such a reaction in the girl. Was it the children? They were being quite raucous today. But why would they cause such a reaction in her? Did it have something to do with her own childhood? Exactly how long had she been alone?

Too many questions and way too many ways to answer them. He had too little information to work with at the moment. He needed to find out her real name, even just her first name would be helpful. She was a possible successor after all. L could already tell that she'd make an excellent replacement and he was sure that Watari could see it as well.

Finally, she spoke up, her mask firmly back in place. "Thank you for helping me. Now,, may I please have some time to myself so that I can unpack?"

"Of course," Watari answered as L nodded.

"Please find me in the library when you're done," L said. "I'll be there for the remainder of the day. We have something to discuss."

"I understand."

As soon as the door was shut, Marguerite nearly tripped in her haste to make it to the window. She leaned out as far as she could from the second story window and searched through the faces in the crowd of children in the garden and the field, trying to find his or, at the very least, a face like his.

But, of course, she knew in her heart that she would never find him.

She fell onto her hands and knees and tried to find balance on the flat, still floor beneath her but it didn't work. Sobs seemed to tear right through her as the tears finally fell for the first time in a year. She'd tried so hard to stay away from places like this where there were children everywhere. Happy, healthy children who could play and sing without a care.

But Michel had told her to forget about him. He'd called her a crybaby when she'd tried to cry for him at first. He'd told her never to cry over him again because he could never respect an older sister who cried over silly things like death because he swore they'd meet again. So, he told her to forget about him for now if it would make her stop crying. And it had.

Until now.

Marguerite didn't know how long she cried for. She didn't know what finally made her stop. But as her tears slowed and her sobs grew softer, she started to unpack the two large suitcases on her bed. She'd made sure to bring no personal items except for the ribbons and notebooks given to her by her brother the last time she'd spent her birthday together with him. She put away her dresses, boots, and heels before everything else and finished after making sure that everything was neatly folded and put away.

Then it was time for her discussion with L.

She left her room, having seen the library on the way, and headed down the hallway in the direction she'd come from earlier. The library was the most spacious room she'd seen so far in the house with a row of windows dominating the wall on the opposite side of the room where desks were set in front of them. In the center of the room were two couches and several chairs that seemed comfortable enough to fall asleep in.

L was crouching in one of those chairs, typing away on a laptop while occasionally glancing at a pile of papers beside him. Marguerite approached him as though she expected him to jump on top of her.

Instead, he mumbled. "Are you done unpacking?"

"Yes. Now, what did you have to discuss with me?"

"First, do you really have no family members who are capable of caring for you?"

She lowered her eyes. "I've been alone for as long as I can remember."

"You're lying," L sighed. "Where are your parents?"

"I've never had parents, I've only had-" she hesitated. Michel. She didn't want to tell him about her pure little brother. He didn't deserve it. He was just another one of those men who thought it was okay to step all over the wills of other people just to get what he wanted. He claimed to work for justice and the people but-

"Who was with you before you came here?" L asked softly.

"No one you need to worry about. He's gone now."

"He was important to you," L stated, turning to look at her now with his cold, emotionless eyes that matched the ones set in her perfect mask.

"Yes."

L observed her expression for a moment, biting his thumbnail and sitting in that strange way of his. Finally, he smiled. "You don't have to tell me yet but you will have to eventually."

She nodded.

"Meanwhile, I would like to ask if you would mind being one of my successors."

Her eyes widened a bit. What? "But you don't even know me. I haven't even demonstrated my talents for you."

"You seemed quite confident earlier."

"I told you. I was just stating other people's opinions. And I doubt anyone here is any better than I am. They won't accept me as a successor."

"I'm sure they'll grow to accept you."

Marguerite frowned. She couldn't refuse him but how could she know if she was right to be his successor if she didn't-?

All of a sudden, the doors to the library burst open.

An enraged boy walked through followed by the same, silent, white-haired boy she'd met earlier.

Marguerite took out her notebook and wrote something down quickly before shutting it and placing it back on her lap.

"She's the new successor," the white-haired boy stated patiently as he curled a strand of his hair around his finger.

"Yes," L replied, ignoring the stares of Marguerite and the other boy whose jaw dropped in shock.

"A girl?" The blond yelled in indignation. "I've been working hard all this time to beat this kid when, all of a sudden, a girl can just swoop in out of nowhere and take my place?"

"Shocking isn't it?" The white-haired boy said, amused.

"I suppose these are your current successors?"

"Yes, Near is the calmer one and Mello is the more excitable one."

"Hmm, so pseudonyms are common here."

"Yes."

She tilted her head a bit to the side as she thought for a moment. "Then I'll change mine."

"To what?"

"Moon."

"Alright," L shrugged, taking a sugar cube from the bowl on the center of the coffee table and tossing it into his mouth. "So will you be my successor or won't you, Moon?"

"I'll do it," she replied.

"Just a moment ago you were unsure."

Truthfully, she was only doing it to spite Mello for what he'd said earlier. "Well, now I'm sure."

Mello seemed like he was ready to attack but instead he just groaned and left the room in some vain attempt to maintain some semblance of "maturity" around L.

Near stared at her for a moment longer before following Mello out.

Moon almost felt like smiling.

"So, now that that's settled," L said, already turning back to his work.

"Wait, how old are you?" Moon asked abruptly.

"I'm eighteen, why?"

"Are you really in so much danger that you need a successor? You do all of your work inside anyway."

"Not all of the time. Occasionally, I do have to go undercover."

"Oh."

And it was silent again.

But just as Moon was starting to wonder if she should just leave, a girl who looked to be about her age ran through the doorway and stopped to place her hands on her knees and try to catch her breath. "Roger. . . Told me that. . . You needed to talk to me, L."

"Yes," L said. "I need you to show the Moon around."

"Moon?" The young girl's eyes widened as she finally noticed Moon sitting beside L. She smiled widely before jumping into the air and practically screaming. "Yay! A new girl to play with!"

Moon had a strong urge to strangle L. Was he serious? This girl was obviously insane! How could he just pass her over to a psycho like this? Moon wasn't quite used to energetic people.

"My name's Tasha. You're so pretty! I'm so happy to meet you! We're going to be best friends, I just know it!" Tasha was a small girl that was so skinny you could see her bones. This served to make her large eyes stand out even more and give her the "deer in the headlights" look. Her straight, dark brown hair was in two ponytails and she wore large, baggy clothing that only served to make her seem smaller.

"What's her talent?" Moon asked L.

"She's actually highly skilled in medicine."

Moon found that a little hard to believe.

"Just try not to mention her size," L cautioned before returning to his work.

"Come on, let's go!" Tasha said excitedly, pulling on Moon's arm with surprising strength.

Throughout the entire tour, Tasha chattered enthusiastically about various subjects and seemed to forget that she'd only just met Moon.

"Your outfit is so pretty! Are you into designing? Can you make me an outfit? How long will it take you to make it? If it's too much trouble, never mind. Hey, isn't it uncomfortable to wear a bow around your neck like that? But it looks so cute on you with the bow to the side like that!"

When they'd reached the field, Moon finally opened her notebook and took a while writing what she needed to before closing it again. As she'd been writing, Tasha had gradually stopped talking and watched her silently. When she'd finally closed it, Tasha asked, "What were you writing?"

Moon considered telling her that it was none of her business but instead said, "Notes."

"On what?"

"People, places, things, whatever thoughts come to mind."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to forget."

"Forget what?"

"I think that's enough information you've gotten out of me to give to L, don't you?"

Tasha giggled. "You caught me."

"You're too transparent," Moon hesitated. "You remind me a bit of someone that I used to know."

"Really? Well, that's good. At least, I hope it is," she glanced at the old watch that dangled from her wrist. "It's almost time for dinner, we should get to the dining hall. Miss Olivia doesn't like it when anyone's late."

"Alright, let's go then."

Tasha stayed where she was and when Moon turned back to look at her questioningly, she said, "You know, I'm not stupid. I can tell something terrible happened to you in the past. You're determined to forget it by burying the memories deep in your heart but they'll never be buried deeply enough for you to forget completely. Take it from someone who knows."

Then Tasha stepped forward and grasped the hand that wasn't holding the notebook.

"From today on, allow me to be your sister."

There was an awkward pause after this but Tasha's determined gaze didn't waver. Finally, Moon sighed for what must've seemed the tenth time to her that day. "You're really weird."

Tasha gave her a wide smile filled with pure happiness. "I know! But I've always wanted a sister and I can't help but think this is fate! And I just know that I can help you!"

And for the first time in years, Moon really smiled.

Tasha's smiled faltered a little as her eyes widened in shock. "You smiled."

And then Moon's face seemed to fall back into it's usual expression. "I guess so."

And after a moment of silence, the girls heard the bells in the tower and ran quickly through the shortcut in the garden to get to the kitchen. The cook barely spared them a glance as he muttered, "Don't track any mud in."

The two girls made sure to quickly brush the mud off on the doormat before entering the dining room. Everyone was just arriving and filling in the seats so the two of them sat down in the closest chairs like they'd come in with everyone else.

A stern looking woman stood by the door watching the children walk past.

"Is that Miss Olivia?"

"Yeah, she's really big on manners and punctuality," Tasha shrugged. "She's just here so that Roger doesn't have to deal with us brats."

"He doesn't like children?" Moon hadn't even met him and she already didn't like him.

"Not quite," Tasha grinned. "Look, there's L!"

L seemed to be the last to walk through the door. As soon as he walked through, Miss Olivia shut the door behind him and everyone quieted down and sat at their tables.

L made his way over to where Moon sat with Tasha.

"Did you finish showing her around?"

Tasha nodded enthusiastically, apparently speechless in L's presence.

"Good," he turned to Moon. "Come talk to me if you have any questions."

"Alright. Your room's right next door, right?"

"Yes," and with that last word, he walked away.

"L's great, isn't he?" Tasha said. "He's smart, just, cool, kind, and funny. There's no one like him. But I do worry about his health sometimes."

Moon merely nodded at this not wanting to talk about L anymore than she had to and hoping that this would put the conversation to an end. Unfortunately this only seemed to encourage Tasha.

And so for the rest of dinner Moon had to listen to Tasha's theories on what was wrong with L.

Later on that night, Moon paled at the sound of thunder coming from outside.

"What's wrong?" Tasha turned to look at her. They were in Tasha's room watching TV.

"Nothing, just tired." Moon was careful to keep her expression still and her voice flat. "In fact, I should be getting back to my room."

"Oh, well, okay. See you tomorrow."

Moon left the room as normally as she could. Almost everyone was in their rooms by then so as soon as she was halfway there, she started running. She got strange looks from the few in the hallway but she didn't care at that point. She just wanted to reach that door that had always been her safe haven: her room.

She burst in, slammed the door shut, and fell to her knees, covering her ears.

It was what she always did when it rained because when the lightening hit she could swear that she still heard Michel's cries as "Papa" hit him. When thunder roared, she could still hear his drunken voice begging her to play and sing his favorites. She was his little nightingale. His little caged bird. His Marguerite.

"But that's not my name!" She'd cry in French. "Je m'appelle Lu-"

"Marguerite, mon petit oiseau," he'd slur, gently touching her lips. "Just one more."

And she'd cry and do as she was told.

Moon tried to focus on the present. She was no longer Marguerite, after all. She tried to focus on the clean white carpet and the light that filled the room. She tried to focus on the fact that she was no longer nine years old. She tried to focus on the words typed on the newspaper clippings that filled the walls-

She'd entered the wrong room.


End file.
